Once you had wheels
but mum cut you free.
On damaged paws
you followed me
through hospital stays
and college days
to my adult home.
Not just age
knocks your stuffing out –
clothes moths find the fluff
of your Achilles heel.
Squirming larvae leave
no alternative but
enforced clear out
of things outgrown.
6 comments:
a little sad letting go of the past, but it is necessary. I, too, had a favorite toy. A little yellow rabbit with threadbare ears where I once rubbed them to fall asleep. It followed me into my 30s and was lost somewhere between then and my 40s in a move or a clean out. That little inanimate creature will always hold a special place in my heart.
I doubt there will be anyone who can’t relate to this piece in fact I was wondering only a few days ago what the oldest thing I owned was and it’s probably my hard backed notebooks, the ones I bought from Woolies, in which I wrote my first poems. There are, of course, the two Sylvac rabbits that I inherited after my parents passed away but they were theirs, not mine. Actually that’s not true. I’ve just remembered I have a toy car – a horsebox. Of all the things to survive, why that?
Beautiful...
My old stuffed dog lives in our keepsake box with my husband's clown, String. I know what you mean about letting go. A very good poem, Juliet.
I very much enjoyed this - lots of memories.
It has been a long time since I visited and look what you have been up to!
Lovely poem. I still have my first teddy bear.
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